Four Dukes and a Devil

by Cathy Maxwell

  There were appropriate murmurs of appreciation at the coup, and Lady Theresa blushed appropriately. “After Miss Rogers talked to me the other evening, I started to think that perhaps she was right. Perhaps I should be open to the addresses of other gentlemen.” Her gaze softened when she looked at a young blond-haired fellow, Haven’s son, who had joined the crowd around them.

  “Well,” Roan said, “it appears someone is owed an apology.”

  “Your Grace,” Miss Rogers protested.

  Roan shook his head. “No, the man made accusations that were unjustified, and he should apologize.” He turned to Alberth. “Won’t you, my lord?” He edged his words with a hint of steel.

  “She should have known where my daughter was,” Alberth answered.

  “You didn’t even know where your daughter was,” Roan countered, and received several nods of agreement from their audience.

  Alberth was not one to enjoy apologizing. He hedged and shifted his weight, then said, “Very well. I regret the misunderstanding.”

  It was not a graceful apology, but Miss Rogers bobbed a curtsy, and replied, “Please, I beg you not to think of this again.”

  His lordship shrugged, then walked over to meet Haven’s son. Lady Alberth followed him, and the crowd focused their attentions upon other matters.

  Roan was pleased. In fact, he felt a bit heroic for standing up for Miss Rogers. He turned to her, expecting gratitude and, instead, he found her surrounded by Lady Bollinger and others.

  Miss Rogers did not appear pleased, and he was puzzled.

  The women walked off.

  He approached. “Weren’t they happy Lady Theresa was found?” It seemed a safe question.

  It wasn’t.

  Miss Rogers turned to him with angry tears in her eyes. “No, they weren’t happy. In fact, I’ve been given the sack by all of them. I’m ruined. Everything I worked for is gone.”

  “Miss Rogers, I don’t know what to say—”

  “Don’t say anything. Not one word. You’ve said enough. You’ve done enough.” She turned and started walking away.

  Roan went after her. Out in the foyer, he demanded, “What have I done wrong?”

  She paused long enough to explain, “Have you ever seen one of those tightrope walkers? That’s what I do, Your Grace. I walk a tightrope between respectable society and not-so-respectable society. A gentlewoman at this level of society doesn’t work. My sisters warned me. I knew the risks I ran. I thought I could keep my balance, but this evening…” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have paid attention to me. I’m not worth it. Losing my livelihood isn’t worth it.”

  “Susan,” he said, using her Christian name because it was more direct, more intimate, “I wasn’t trying to harm you—”

  “But that is what happened,” she replied, cutting him off. “Excuse me. I’ve been ordered to leave.”

  She all but ran out the door, not waiting for her cloak. Roan stood for a second in confusion. He didn’t understand how everything had just gone wrong. He charged after her, but was waylaid by a footman who wanted to give him, “My lady’s cape.”

  By the time Roan made it out the door, Miss Rogers had disappeared.

  He needed to find her, but first he wanted a conversation with Bollinger and his wife.

  Susan was furious with herself. What a fool she’d been. Her mistake had been in forgetting her place. She’d allowed her infatuation with the Duke of Killeigh to be too obvious. Too public.

  Lady Bollinger and the others had not minced words. She had been deemed “unsuitable,” and they were right. Ellen and Jane had warned her.

  Of course, it didn’t help when she returned to her lonely rooms and realized that the sharp words had not been what had hurt this evening.

  No, what had pierced her like a lance was her own realization at how foolish she had been. Sitting with the duke, having him pay court to her, had actually led her to believe that there might be more to his intentions than some wager, or even pure lust.

  She’d wanted to believe he cared for her. Wanted him to love her.

  Susan shook her head, crossing her arms and pacing the parameters of the room. There was no such thing as love. It was a phantom, a myth, nonsense.

  But wouldn’t it be a blessing to have a man like the duke in love with her? To have him care for her?

  She raised a hand to her forehead, remembering the way he’d defended her to Lord Alberth. Not even her sisters would dare to speak out for her.

  Of course, she could blame the duke for causing the incident…except that she truly, deeply valued those moments they’d spent together.

  The man was dangerous. She lost all common sense around him. He’d destroyed her commissions. She was impoverished. Alone.

  And yet, she was also in love.

  The word snuck up on her. Startled her. Made her think she was going mad, and yet she knew it to be true.

  She’d fallen in love with the Duke of Killeigh.

  Susan sank into a chair, startled by the depths of her feelings. She barely knew him…and yet, this evening, they spoke as if they’d known each other forever.

  Of course, no duke could ever be in love with her—

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Susan frowned. She rarely had visitors. It was probably one of her sisters, with an ultimatum for disgracing the family. They’d probably been stewing over it for hours.

  She went over to the door and hesitated. She should not answer it. Ellen and Jane would only make her feel worse. They would accuse her of disgracing them, and they would be right.

  Her unknown visitor knocked again. “Miss Rogers, Susan, please, open the door.”

  The voice belonged to the Duke of Killeigh.

  Chapter Six

  Roan knew she was on the other side of the door. He could literally feel her presence through the wood. The pull between them was that strong.

  He did not know what he’d do if she denied it.

  Nor did he know what he would say if she did open the door. He had her cloak. He’d grabbed it from the footman at the ball, thinking to use the return of it as an excuse.

  It was a pitiful substitute for the true reason he’d come for her. Silly even.

  Roan had faced French fire. He’d been surrounded by screaming heathens wielding knives and scimitars ready to skin him alive. But he’d never been more afraid than in that moment when, slowly, the door handle turned—and he found himself face-to-face with Susan.

  Susan. Even her name felt good to him.

  She was still dressed in her evening clothes although she’d taken the pins out of her prim, tightly arranged curls so that her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. She appeared young, defenseless…and frightened. She’d been crying.

  It broke his heart.

  For a long moment, they stood, and it was in that moment, Roan knew what he felt was true and right.

  He loved Susan Rogers.

  But did she love him?

  He tossed the cloak to the floor and held out his hand. “Will you dance with me?”

  “You don’t need to do this,” she said. “It’s over. You won.”

  “No,” he answered. “It’s just beginning.”

  She didn’t mistake his meaning. Her eyes, still shiny with tears, softened. “We mustn’t. You could do so much better than I, Your Grace.”

  “Roan,” he corrected. She didn’t understand so he explained. “I will not have the woman I want for my wife to call me ‘Your Grace.’ That is reserved for inferior beings. My wife will be my other half. My conscience, my delight, my soul.”

  The tears now poured freely from her eyes.

  Roan didn’t know what to make of it. Was she telling him no? He’d never felt so vulnerable. So lost.

  He sank down to his knees. “Susan, marry me.”

  “But you barely know me.” She was smiling now…through the tears.

  “Aye, and the poets say that sometimes we must risk all for love. Susan, I want
to spend my life knowing you.”

  She came down to the floor in front of him. Her arms came around his neck and she kissed him full and hard on the mouth.

  Roan wasted no time kissing her back. He kissed her in a way he’d never kissed a woman. He wanted her to know this wasn’t just about passion. What was between them was something sacred.

  And then she placed his hand on her breast, and he knew she still didn’t understand.

  It took all his will to pull his hand away. He cupped Susan’s face in his hands. Her eyes were wide with confusion. “I want you for my wife. Do you want me for a husband?”

  “I believe I started falling in love with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. But, Your Grace—”

  “Roan,” he insisted.

  “Roan,” she repeated. “Roan, Roan, Roan.” She placed her hands on his shoulders. “I can’t let you do this—”

  “Do you not love me?”

  “I said I love you, with an intensity that is almost frightening—”

  Roan cut her off with a kiss. He loved the taste of her, the feel of her, the scent of her—

  She broke off the kiss. Her breathing matched his own fevered pace. “I’m not worthy of you. There, I’ve said it. Please, Roan, this cannot happen.”

  It felt as if she were cutting out her heart to turn him away. What Susan had felt for her long-ago suitor paled in comparison to her feelings for the duke.

  For the first time in her life, someone had come after her. Someone had cared what she was feeling, worried about her, wanted to be there for her.

  It was a powerful gift.

  “For too long, Roan, I’ve felt as if I’ve had the weight of the world on my shoulders—first with my parents’ deaths, then protecting my sisters. And then, seeing to my own welfare. I am humbled and deeply thankful for your offer. Indeed, just for your presence.”

  He watched her intently as she spoke. He was so handsome, so noble. So wonderful. However, now a frown had formed on his brow. He leaned back. “Do you love me, Susan?”

  She started to hedge, knowing that if she truly cared for him, the best thing she could do would be to stop him from this foolishness.

  But as she started to open her mouth to explain, he demanded, “I don’t want common sense. Or what you believe you should do. I want to know, lass, do you love me? Not the duke, but the man.”

  “I love the man,” she said, unable to hold back her feelings any longer.

  “Good. Then I’ve made up my mind.” He rose to his feet, taking her hand and bringing her up with him.

  “Your mind about what?” she asked as he picked her cloak up off the floor.

  “About us,” he said, placing her cape around her shoulders. Without warning, he swung her up in his arms. “We are going to elope.”

  She opened her mouth to protest—

  “No, Susan, for once think of yourself. Make me a happy man and come with me to Scotland. To Gretna Green, where we can be married in a trice, and no one can say us nay. We’ll be there before dark tomorrow.”

  He was completely serious.

  And for once, she thought of herself. “Yes. Yes, I will be your wife. Yes, I will go to Scotland. Oh, Roan, and, yes, I love you so much it hurts.”

  He sealed her promise with a kiss, and before she realized it, they were out the door and on their way. He hired a coach with fast horses at the nearest coaching inn, and as the sun came up on the morning, they were a quarter of their way to Scotland.

  If she’d had any doubts about him or a marriage to him, they were dispelled on the ride. Roan opened himself completely to her, and she returned the favor, sharing with all that was inside her, all she’d feared telling another. They held each other, content with the promise that within hours they would belong to one another.

  The drive was uneventful. Their marriage took place at eight the following evening in a low-ceilinged taproom with candlelight all around them. Roan paid each of the witnesses a hundred guineas before taking Susan’s hand and leading her up the back stairs to the room waiting for them.

  Susan knew she should pretend shyness. She was a virgin after all. But her love for her husband made her eager.

  The moment the door closed behind them, she kissed him with abandon.

  “I shall never tire of kissing you,” Roan promised when they came up for air.

  “But there is something more, isn’t there?” She noticed how he’d restrained himself on the coach ride. She’d known, because she’d had to struggle to keep her own desire for him in check.

  Well, no longer.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Susan,” he began. “They say this can be painful for a woman—”

  She shut him up with a kiss.

  After that, there was no restraining either one of them. Laces were fumbled with and finally undone. Buttons freed. Clothes dropped to the floor. The clean sheets felt good against the heat of her body. But nothing could compare with the feeling of her husband lying naked beside her.

  Their kisses grew more heated. He was strong in ways she’d not imagined. He held off his own pleasure to please her—and that’s when the last traces of doubt left her. This man was a gift from God.

  Susan wasn’t completely certain what to expect. She had a general idea, but ideas were not the same as experience. What she discovered was that the act of coupling was far more fun than she could have imagined.

  Roan tickled her with his tongue, caressed and soothed her with his fingers, and kissed every place that was kissable.

  And then, the games between them were over. Her husband’s weight rested on top of her. The length of him pressed intimately against her.

  He brushed back tangled strands of hair from her face, his expression serious. “I love you, Susan,” he said, then kissed her, fully, deeply before entering her in one smooth, strong thrust.

  The sensation of him caught her off guard. She gave a small gasp of surprise. Immediately, he was repentant.

  “I’m sorry. Here, let me leave you alone—”

  Susan stopped him from pulling away by placing her hand on one firm buttock. “You’ll go nowhere, husband,” she said, “until you’ve finished what you’ve started.” Her body had adjusted to him. In fact, he felt quite nice…but she knew there had to be more.

  The worry left his expression. “I think only of your pleasure,” he whispered.

  “Then begin pleasuring,” she answered, the words turning into a soft purr as he did exactly that.

  Susan knew she would never forget the joy of this first coupling. Roan was everything she wanted in a lover. He knew what she needed before she was even aware herself.

  She clung to him, trusting him. He did not fail her. He took her to places she’d never imagined. Their bodies moved as one until that bright, shining moment when she gave all.

  Her whole being vibrated with her love for him. Tears came to her eyes from sheer joy.

  And then she felt him join her. He thrust deep and hard as if reaching to her very center before finding his own blessed release.

  For a long time, neither moved. They held each other tight.

  Susan found her voice first. “May we do this again?”

  Her question startled a laugh out of him. He rolled off her, bringing her up so she rested on his chest, her legs inter twined with his. Flipping the bedcovers over them, he nuzzled her nose, and promised, “Morning, noon, and night.”

  And so they did.

  Three days later, they finally left their marriage bed—but Susan was no longer the same woman she had been that first night.

  Then, she’d been shy and uncertain of Roan’s love.

  Now, she emerged a woman deeply loved and confident that, at last, she’d found her place in this world…by his side.

  Epilogue

  The Duke of Marlborough’s ball was the last event of the Season. Invitations were coveted. Only the cream of the ton were invited, and no one who received an invitation would consider refusing it.

&nb
sp; Consequently, it was a night to see and be seen.

  However, when the butler announced the arrival of the Duke and Duchess of Killeigh, conversation stopped. After all, Killeigh had been a bit infamous at the beginning of the Season, with all that talk of his being an Irish Duke and the Order of Precedence. There were few who didn’t know the story.

  But no one had heard he had married.

  Whispers started from people wondering who the lucky woman was. Word had gone around that Killeigh had purchased one of those new homes in Mayfair and was in the process of buying the best of furnishings.

  The debutantes were the most curious. Their Season had not gone well. Many missed the wise counsel of Miss Rogers. She’d known exactly what to do and what to say in every circumstance. The most unhappy was Lady Theresa. She missed Gerald Grover and wished she’d not tossed him aside for Lord Haven’s vain and stupid son.

  She wondered if she had the courage to defy her parents.

  Two people who were not curious were Ellen and Jane. They had been relieved not to have to worry about their sister. She had apparently taken off. Run away. They agreed it was rude of her, but at least they wouldn’t have to worry about her.

  They turned to see who would appear at Killeigh’s side as his new bride just as a matter of idle curiosity—and then Ellen dropped her punch cup in surprise. It landed on Jane’s new satin slippers, forever staining the fabric, but Jane didn’t care. She was just as shocked as Ellen.

  Their sister stood on the step beside the Duke of Killeigh.

  Susan looked magnificent. Diamonds at her throat, her ears, and nestled in her blond curls sparkled in the candlelight. Her gown could only have come from Madame Lucia’s, the premier dressmaker in London. It was a white muslin trimmed in blue lace. On her feet, she wore sandals made of silver cords.

  Jane leaned close to Ellen’s ears. “Everyone will be wearing those sandals by tomorrow.”

  Ellen nodded. “She looks positively stunning. Who knew Killeigh had so much money?” She frowned. “Of course, can you believe she just took off without telling us?” she muttered.

  “I can believe we’d best do what we must to beg her forgiveness,” Jane answered, and Ellen knew she was right.